


Tick Tock

by unagidragonroll



Category: EXO (Band), f(x)
Genre: Angst, Broken!Sestal, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 04:49:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3236882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unagidragonroll/pseuds/unagidragonroll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time ticks, and no man can never blame it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tick Tock

**Author's Note:**

> A damn word vomit in the middle of the night after months of hiatus. Really, ignore the errors.

It's funny how things work in this life; the grass choose to be green, a mother's undenying love to her child, two workers from the same place who don't greet each other midway, and how the rain can be so lovely with its lighting storm if accompanied with a cup of coffee. Impressive, isn't it? 

Sehun, a curious early 20s almost-bachelor architecture student, looks up to the sky and inhales the spring air. He closes his eyes, feeling the every bits of the night, and opens it again to the very sight of Jung Soojung, co-intern from the different department.

She smiles. "Home?"

He nods, flashing out his keys. "You too?"

"Yep." She grins, "oh, just a second."

She left to answer it. Jongin watches from the side, how her eyes lit up with her every words. She rotates slightly on her heels, and laughs every now and then. Her voice is the same comforting sound she uses to speak everyday, even to him. Of course. She hungs up eventually and walks back to him.

"Not picking up, him?" He asks.

She shakes her head. "Late night duty, the usual." 

She laughs again. Sehun thinks inward, how can this girl be this so lightheaded? Why does she take everything easily, like everything is on her hand? She has hardly shown any stress on her face for as long as he know her, and that's good. That's what perfect of her, aside of the non stop list of what makes her, her.

"So, aren't you going?" 

He nearly has a heart attack for the sudden question. She may notice him staring at her, but she seemed undisturbed with that fact.

"Um, what about a coffee?" He offers. "The usual, or, anything?"

He just wants some more time.

Her eyes lit up, "Sure!"

Few blocks down the street is the coffee shop that plays some jazz songs that she loves. They order the usual drinks, sit on the usual spot, chatting the usual topic. Everything is so the usual, much to both's delight.

"I haven't been here since I applied the internship last month," she blows her coffee, "ah, the smell."

He smiles. "I'm sure they're glad to have you back."

Just like the way he's glad for having her time.

"How's the thesis doing?" She starts up another topic. Just to add another point to his list of her, she can always make a good flow of conversation. No one will ever get bored to be her company. "Is your professor being his old self again?"

He chuckles, bitterly. "Same old, same old. Oh, literally."

She laughs, this time her eyes forming crescent. She talks about her own thesis even more, how the internship going on the magazine company, how her sister is now abroad preparing for her wedding (she makes sure to invite him), and how she's so happy to be able to eat the coffee shop's apple pie.

"Apple pie doesn't really suit coffee, you know?" He pipes in, letting few blows out of cigs.

She rolls her eyes. "And smoking doesn't actually suit you, you do know this."

He laughs, letting it go as another cig is being lit up.

Time again, it ticks; faster when you don't want it to be, and slower as you wish it could end. They sit there then, enjoying the night crowded street goes less packed, the light from the corner flickers on and off; it's the only both of them left inside.

"I need to be home." She says, not actually getting up off the chair. She lazily plays with the unlit cigarettes of his, making forms of smileys. "He doesn't like me out this late."

He stares down, taking out the tobacco out of his lips. "He doesn't like you out this late, with me."

She looks up, meeting his eyes, and break it. "I really don't like you smoking."

"I really don't like you with him."

"For God's sake, Sehun!" She cries, closing her eyes. Sticks of cigarettes fall to the floor. "Sehun, do not start any of this." Her eyes look like begging. Under the dim light of the cafe, they glisten.

"I do not start any of these thing, Soojung." He takes one last smoke and punch it down the ashtray. He looks up with his menacing eyes. "You did."

"Oh please." She laughs sarcastically. "I did these? I started things up? You should've looked at your face when you said that to me."

"Soojung--"

"You're pathetic, Sehun." She spits. "You-- you just sat there. You stayed obnoxiously quiet. The whole thing you did was only, and only, graving about her." She closes her eyes. "See. That's how pathetic you were."

He doesn't say anything in return, just playing with the last cig on the table.

Her, on the other side, she also doesn't utter another word. She busies herself staring in disbelieve for the man after her.

He was not like this, was perfectly unlike this. He was the bubbly, almost cheeky, and was there to make her laugh with his every sentence.

It is now the opposite, and Soojung doesn't like that.

"Sehun, why are you being like this?" She asks after a long silence.

He sighs. "You know why." 

"That cannot be true, can it?" 

"Oh Soojung," he chuckles, "you just called me pathetic, and now what?" He looks up to meet her eyes. His own now looked no more than moist than hers. "So now just let me be pathetic."

A tear drops on her cheek. How Sehun is so longing to touch and wipe it; he looks away.

"Sehun." She speaks again, "Sehun, you were my bestfriend."

"Then so be it." 

Another tear drops. Another second ticks. Another breath is exhaled. 

She looks down. "Sehun, I'm sorry."

He laughs. "Don't. You did nothing wrong."

She tilts her head up to see him facing the street. From the reflection of the window, Soojung can perfectly tell which is the rain drop, which is his tears.

"It was me. It was me, neglecting the time. I thought I had the time. I thought you could wait a little bit longer."

The street is now empty. The corner lamppost is no longer flickering; it's off. The rain has washed the crumpled newspaper on the pavement.

"It was me, Soojung. You did nothing wrong. I guess," he looks back at her, "I guess I just love you in the wrong time. It has ticked a second slower to me to realize that. But it ticks perfectly for you." He smiles, so much bitter than the taste of his americano. "And he, he came in the right timing."

"It's okay, I'm just a pathetic wreck of hopeful intern, wishing and pursuing a career upon not realizing the real success was you. It was you. I pushed you away. I was too obsessed with my study, with my future work, and with her who ever take me for granted, but you, Soojung, you were there." Another drip falls from the corner of his tired eye. "You were there."

She cannot make herself comfortable longer when she stand up, leaving few bills on the table and dashes to the door.

"Soojung." He calls. She looks back to see him litting up another cig. "Do not even bother to greet me again."

She walks out and never looks back again. Not even if he begs for her, no.

Sehun sits there, with pale lips and smoke around him, watching her to fade.

It's funny how things work in this life; the grass choose to be green, a mother's undenying love to her child, two workers from the same place who don't greet each other midway, how the rain can be so lovely with its lighting storm if accompanied with a cup of coffee, and how time can actually break a man.

It isn't so funny afterall. It is just the time works what it needs to do to get things in life roll like how it supposed to be, and no man can ever blame it.

Time ticks, and no, you do not own any of its tick.


End file.
